Together Apart: Change is Never Easy (3 page)

The ride plummeted, taking Sam by surprise. She gave a delighted, chirping yell, her hand full of Zach and stroking. He seemed caught somewhere between ecstatic and shocked, definitely not in the pirate ride’s full spirit.
 

“What are you doing?” he hissed.
 

“I’m appreciating the wonder of this moment.”
 

“There are kids here!”
 

Sam looked side to side, rubbed harder, and said, “I don’t see any kids here.”
 

“Behind us!”
 

“Well, then I sure hope they don’t move the safety bar and climb down here while the ride is moving, to see what we’re doing!”
 

Sam took long, quick strokes with her hand, feeling Zach’s girth radiate heat in her grip. This wasn’t like her at all. Sam was passionate but by the book, handies on rides wasn’t her usual scene. Truth was, even Zach’s dorky rose gesture had her excited, this was her way of telling him that she had enjoyed it. Women could be complicated; men had to do different things to please each one. But men were easy. All roads led to dick, and all meaningful things could be conveyed with the right rhythm and tempo. Besides, the taboo was getting her wetter. With her boyfriend’s cock in her hand and the prospect of their first night together right around the bend, Sam felt like she could get off on the ride’s vibration alone.
 

“Sam, seriously.”
 

“Oh, seriously?” She stroked faster.
 

“I mean … wow … but on the ride … it’s … ”
 

“You’re an artist,” she said, smiling her devilish smile. “I’d think you of all people would appreciate this.”
 

“You’ve gotta stop,” he said. It was perhaps the most reluctant thing she’d ever heard him say. He sounded like a man choosing to die for his country, because it was the right thing to do.

“I’ll make you a deal, Picasso,” she said, now gripping him under the head, feeling it pulse above her fist, “you want me to stop, go limp.”
 

“Well, I can’t exactly … ”
 

“Then there’s only one other way.”
 

Sam had studied the ride on their approach. The carnie operating the pirate ship let the ride go on forever. Based on their earlier third-base activities, Sam knew Zach wasn’t exactly a one-pump-chump but was still betting his chances of popping his top in the duration of a single ride was at least 50-50. Based on how incredibly hard he felt in her grip, the scenario itself was more of a turn-on than her handjobs in his room, with the TV on and James and Brian playing that Magic card game in the other room. His shaft was already twitching under her hand, his physiology saying things his best intentions seemed at war with.

“Jesus, Sam.” His breath was picking up. She watched him, feeling herself begin to slide atop her panties on the ride’s seat. She
wanted
him to get off. Not for him, but for her. She could imagine the thing in her hand, entering her, parting her lips, exploding inside of …

Zach leaned his head back, eyes closing, sensations of the thrill ride and her pumping hand blending. His balls tightened; his cock throbbed harder. She stroked faster, the ride now slowing, and ship’s arcs smaller. Above and below them, riders screamed.
 

She leaned toward him, put her lips to his ear, and went for broke. You only lived once.
 

“I can’t wait to have you inside me,” she whispered.
 

It was enough. As the ride slowed further, hot liquid covered her knuckles as Zach grunted and leaned into her, body convulsing. The other riders were in their own aftershocks, having gone from screaming to chatter, to recollections of wasn’t-that-awesome. Still Sam felt pulses coming from Zach’s cock, running down her skin as she stayed with him through his descent.
 

The ride stopped, and the carnie stood. Sam jerked her hand from Zach’s fly, leaving it open. She had pulled a line of spunk out with her emerging hand. It lay across Zach’s leg, white against the dark fabric.
 

Sam’s lips puffed laughter, the back of her hand covered. Zach looked satisfied, then mortified.
 

Sam turned her head, saw the carnie looking at them.
 

“Oh, go on, get out of here,” he said, nodding at Sam’s white-covered hand. “Just don’t get any on my seats.”
 

CHAPTER THREE

Six Years Ago

“I can’t believe you made me cum in my pants at the fair.”
 

“I didn’t
make
you.”
 

“The bathroom stalls didn’t lock. Some fat guy came in while I had my pants down, a giant pool of jizz in those stiff, brown paper towels after having wiped it out, and the guy just looks at me frowning, like he disapproves of a decent guy getting cum out of his pants when some broad makes him lose his shit.”
 

“What an asshole.”
 

“Come over here. Come over here and let me take that off of you.”
 

“No way. Your pants are all sticky, as if you came in them at the fair.”
 

Zach reached out, took Sam by the waist, and pulled her into his stiff-fronted pants. The walk to the bathrooms was disgusting (he’d wished he was a briefs guy; cum kept plopping down his leg as he walked like Andy Dufresne taking his wall debris out to the yard in
The Shawshank Redemption
), the walk to the car nasty and stiff, and the car ride to the hotel unbearable because by then Zach’s hard-on was back, and Sam had started being even less Sam-like, unzipping the top of her jeans to flash her panties and unbuttoning her shirt to “adjust” her bra. Now he was rock-hard again and wanted nothing more than to get between the legs of this little minx who had somehow replaced his Samantha.
 

“Gross,” she said, looking down and making a face.
 

“Let me put this gross thing in you. I want to put it in you.”
 

“Where’s my Michael Bolton? My rose petals?”
 

“You keep teasing me like this, we’ll only need rolls of paper towels. To clean you up afterward.”
 

“Hot.”
 

Zach shut her up by finding her lips, mashing them together, then reaching out and pawing her tits. They were perfect little gravity-defying beauties above a stomach that was so flat it was damn near concave. She put her hand on his bare chest, pushing him back.
 

“What?”
 

“Too fast,” she said.
 

“Too fast? From the girl who jerked me off on the pirate ride?”
 

“I want it softer. I want a memory.”
 

“Oh,” he whispered, realizing that was something he should have said. Or at least thought.
 

“You can rail me harder in the morning,” she said.
 

“Oh.”
Fuck
. Now that she’d said that, it was even harder to slow down.

“Don’t get me wrong,” she said.
 

He was already stripped to his boxers and socks, and she’d already mocked him for leaving the socks on. His boxers, right now, looked like they were showing everyone where the far wall was, their front so stiff it looked like a dipped ice cream cone.
 

“I’m not getting you wrong.”
 

“I want it. I want to f … ”
 

“Don’t say it.”
 

“ … freshen up first,” Sam finished. She looked back at him. “What did you think I was going to say?”
 

“Nothing.”
 

“You thought I was going to say I wanted to fuck you, didn’t you?”
 

“For the love of God, Sam, if you want me to slow down, you’re going to have to stop saying things like … ”
 

“What kind of a girl do you think I am? Oh, and I’m not so sure I got all the cum off of my hand from when I gave you that handjob earlier.” She licked her fingers, one at a time.
 

“Should I get the rose petals, or just bend you over the sink and make it so you can’t walk for a week?”

“That totally makes my vagina wet.” Sam was standing in front of him in only her panties. They were soiled like his boxers. Together they looked like an advertisement for adult diapers. For very horny adults unable to control their fluids.

“Pussy.”
 

“
You’re
the pussy,” she said.
 

“I meant … oh, hell.” His waist rod nodded, as if in agreement.
 

“Go wash your dick off,” Sam suggested.

Zach plodded toward the bathroom. Good idea. Cold water, and all of that. He seriously wondered if he should close the door and rub one out, just to make it easier to slow things down.
Now
she wanted to be romantic. Now that she’d gotten him all hot and bothered. Zach could cum a hole in a wall right now. Sam might actually be in danger.
 

“Good idea,” he said, turning.
 

“Because dried cum is gross. I’m not putting that thing in my mouth until you get it clean.”
 

“Sam, fuck!”
 

“Okay, fine, in a minute.” She put her tongue in her cheek, held her fist beside her mouth, and made a blowjob gesture. “I’ll be over there on the bed, with my panties off.”
 

He walked into the white, deceptively sterile-looking tiled space. He pulled off his boxers and threw them into the trash. The place where his boner had been stayed upright, like a dirty washcloth hung on an upright peg to dry. He looked at the sink, then at the door.
 

“No beating off in there!” Sam called out. “Save that dick to put in me!”
 

Zach didn’t reply, now hobbling toward the sink with what felt like two grenades between his legs. Sam tinkled girlish laughter from the front room.
 

He turned the faucet all the way toward cold, winced, and leaned forward with his balls on the counter, dick pointing toward the faucet. He wet a washcloth, soaked it, and stuffed it onto his boner. It was cold but tolerable, so he did it again, this time cupping the shaft. He lathered up, aware how this would make a wonderful pornographic
America’s Funniest Home Videos
, and worked soap all over. Then, going up on his tiptoes, he put his head against the mirror and used his hands to splash water directly from the faucet all over his crotch. It was very cold. He started to shrivel immediately, like the wicked witch of the West. He finished the job with the washcloth, then shrugged and threw it away. They might charge him a few bucks when they found one missing, but leaving it in circulation was cruel.

He toweled off, pulled off the socks he still hadn’t thought to remove, and left the bathroom, naked.
 

Blessedly, Sam seemed to have tired of teasing him. She was in bed, sheets and downy comforter pulled high, curled toward Zach, lying on her side. Her panties puddled the floor by her nightstand.
 

“Impressive,” she said.
 

Zach looked down. He’d shrunk like a turtle. True to any young relationship, she’d only seen his dick when a handjob or blowjob was in the offing, and on those occasions, it always stood tall.
 

“You did this to me.”

She smiled at him from her nest on the bed, her deep-blue eyes and tan face set off by the bright-white comforter. Zach wondered how they kept everything so white, and why the hotel had chosen such fragile fabrics. It didn’t matter. Sam looked devilishly cute where she was, her billowy, light-brown hair escaping around its edges.
 

“Why don’t you come in here and we’ll see what we can do about that?” she said.
 

“I don’t know. You’re so evil.”

Sam jabbed a tan arm from her nest, grabbed the comforter at the front of the bed, and tossed it back. She lay on the white sheets exposed, her long body with its creamy tan lines in repose like a figure in a painting. Her small patch of pubic hair was all he could see of what was below, as she’d demurely arranged her leg with the front knee slightly elevated. He’d seen what was there a few times before, when he’d touched it or licked her, but this time was different. This time he’d be fully inside her, those lips he’d licked pressing against his root as she took him all in. The thought stirred his cock back to life.
 

She beckoned with a finger, and Zach followed like a man hypnotized.
 

Sam scooched back to give him room. He lay down beside her, then rolled over to kiss her. She was so soft — from her lips to the skin under hand. An exotic fabric, warm below his touch. He ran his fingers from her leg across her hip, then up her side. Their mouths worked in tandem, making small, delicate motions that were almost tentative. They’d done this before, of course, but it had never had the endgame it had now. The energy was different. A bridge was about to be crossed. It wasn’t the first time for either of them, but the first time together was magical and terrifying in its own way. This would be their first mutual impression of one another, the first time each used what they had to give the other pleasure. Their experience was so far fantastic, but sex was different. Her pleasure would come from the source of his pleasure. His pleasure would come from the source of hers.
 

“Are you nervous?” she said, cocking her chin low, eyes inches from his, their noses touching. Her hand was on his leg.

“Just cold. The water was cold.”

“You’re shaking.”
 

“It’s momentous,” he said. “The first time.”
 

He felt stupid as he said it. It was the kind of thing Sam would make fun of him for saying. This time she didn’t. Her small mouth filled with very white teeth, so close to his face that she appeared blurred, kindly smiled.

“I know.”
 

“But you’re not shaking.”